


I'm a Girl!

by Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Female Doctor (Doctor Who), Fluff and Smut, Romance, Safer Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:11:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw/pseuds/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor's a woman, Rory's aroused, and Amy is...helpful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm a Girl!

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhere, there was a prompt which went something like this: Rory doesn't understand Amy's attraction to Eleven until Eleven gets turned into a girl. Rory gets super-awkward around the newly-female Doctor, and Amy has to talk him into acting on his desires.
> 
> For purposes of this fic, Amy and Rory are more or less in an open relationship, though up until now, Amy has gotten a lot more mileage out of the arrangement.
> 
> I hope I got all of the pronouns right: let me know if I mixed one up.

“I can't say I really see what's so attractive about the Doctor,” Rory admitted.

Amy pouted, though he couldn't see it from the bottom bunk. “Try picturing him as a girl.”

“Still not getting it,” he replied, yawning. “Let's get some sleep.”

“Fine,” she replied in a huff, still adamant in her belief that the Time Lord was the second hottest bloke she'd ever met.

“Look, I don't mind that you two have a go from time to time.” Amy was not certain that he was telling the truth, but maybe he was leaving the door open in case he wanted to get in the knickers of some gorgeous alien babe guilt-free, which he was free to do. “I'm still not gay, and not interested in a threesome with him.”

“Your loss,” Amy countered at last. Rory sighed, and they left it at that.

***

Two weeks later, an unpronounceable alien zapped the Doctor with an indescribable sort of radiation. “It's a chaos field,” the Doctor explained. “Goodness, is my voice really that high-pitched? And I've got breasts!” She jumped up and down, causing them to bounce energetically. Good God, Rory thought. The poor woman was going to need a bra in a hurry, the way the Doctor hopped and flitted and spun from place to place. 

“Chaos field?” Amy prompted. “You're ogling the Doctor,” she whispered in Rory's ear, which immediately turned the color of her hair.

“Yes, chaos field.” She produced the sonic and waved it about in a pirouette. “Causes things to get all mixed up. Chromosomes, for instance. Going to take some time to rig up a device that can reverse the effect.” She ran a frenetic hand through her short, straight hair. How had Rory never noticed the alluring habit it had of covering one of the Doctor's eyes? He felt himself growing uncomfortably hard. Was that really all it took? An accidental swirling of one's genetic code?

“When you say some time?..” Rory asked, hoping that this was closer to 'days' than 'centuries' and trying to distract himself from the way the Doctor's new hips curved down into her long, weirdly elegant legs. 

“A few weeks,” the Doctor reassured him. “A month at the outside. Come on, help me pack up the device and get it back to the TARDIS. I need to figure out how it works, first.” She tucked the sonic back into a jacket pocket and grabbed one end of the deactivated field projector. 

“Doctor? This thing isn't going to suddenly turn me into a girl, is it?”

“No, of course not.” She paused and looked back at Rory, face deceptively innocent. “Would you like it to?” Rory stammered and blushed and nearly dropped his end of the projector, and didn't say anything at all until they were back to the TARDIS.

“First things first,” the Doctor announced. “And I'll need both of you to help me.” They followed her deeper into the TARDIS.

“The wardrobe?” Rory looked confused as the Doctor started tugging off her jacket. “What do you need from in here?”

“Clothes, obviously, Rory. Think! I just got turned into a woman. Need to tweak my duds.” She dropped suddenly to the floor and began untying the laces of her boots.

“Hang on: Doctor, you haven't regenerated, have you? Because I remember the last time you suddenly got the urge to start getting naked.”

“Nope!” she explained, wriggling out of her trousers. “Just a minor shuffling about.”

“Thought not,” Amy said, suddenly mock-smug. “None of that golden glow like last time.” She winked cheekily at Rory.

“Still recognizably me, I hope. Mentally, anyway,” she noted as she glanced down at her legs. “Blimey...Rory, do you think I should shave?”

Thankfully, the Doctor was still wearing boxer shorts. “Whatever makes you happy,” he said, flustered, giving his default answer for whenever a pretty woman asked him an unexpected question.

“Suppose I'd better,” she muttered. “I've gotten a terrible urge to wear tights. Is that weird?”

“Nope!” Amy replied, running her hands over her own legs. “Easier in the shower; I'll show you.” These last three words were as throaty as she could make them, and she winked at Rory again. Rory hadn't realized that a wink could be an innuendo until that moment, as Amy led off the Doctor, babbling about how grateful she was that Amy was helping him with this awkward transition. 

“You make an awkward transition whenever you go from one room to the next,” Rory muttered under his breath. Flapping those long, elegant fingers, spinning on lanky but well-proportioned legs, causing those firm, full breasts to bounce... Rory shook his head. Was this what being Amy felt like? All. The. Time? He sat on a convenient stool and tried not to watch the rest of the galaxy's gangliest striptease out of the corner of his eye. 

Twenty minutes later, an excited looking Doctor returned to the wardrobe, with an Amelia Pond in her wake who could best be described as dejected. Amy had gotten dressed, but the Doctor was in a white terry-cloth robe. “You okay?” Rory asked.

“Start looking through that chest of drawers for a comfy pair of knickers,” she told the Doctor, who beamed. (“Ooh, flannel!”) “Shower sex, I thought. Brilliant, I thought. Get those long legs silky smooth, I thought. Soap up those perfect breasts, I thought. See if she wanted some intimate attention between her legs, I thought. Go deaf from her screams echoing off the tile, I thought.” She sighed, and slumped before leaning back towards to Rory to whisper again. “And once I finally got her there...nothing! Not aroused in the least. Not me, and not even her.” But definitely me, Rory thought, his prick becoming uncomfortably hard, a fact which Amy noticed as she slid into his instinctively-offered embrace. She gasped, half in surprise, half in mock-surprise. “You've got a boner for the Doctor,” she giggled, finger jabbing him in the chest.

“No, not the Doctor necessarily. Just, you know, my gorgeous wife having lesbian shower sex. What's not to like?” Rory thought this was a rather plausible lie.

“You're so adorable when you aren't telling the truth,” Amy whispered back. “And so, so bad at it.”

“I'm not lying,” Rory insisted, just as the Doctor turned and opened the front of her robe to ask their opinion on a trim pair of bright turquoise panties and his cock gave a particularly vehement throb. Amy stifled a laugh at the two of them and led the Doctor away to find a bra. 

***

Two months passed, and the only progress that the Doctor seemed to make was revising her outfit to a tight, corset-like waistcoat under the same tweed jacket, a pair of shorts of the same dark-brown material over deep red tights tucked into the same style of boots. Rory had to admit (when pressed) that the ensemble was quite fetching, bowtie and all. “Chaos fields are very, well, chaotic. Hard to predict what exactly they'll do. Harder still to reverse the effect.” She frowned and flipped the sonic from hand to hand. “Still, nothing I can't handle given enough time.” It also didn't help, Rory surmised, that they were keeping up their usual hectic schedule of visiting planets, overthrowing dictators, and blowing up the occasional Dalek. 

Rory was deciding whether or not to mind the delay. On the one hand, he probably shouldn't complain about the double dose of long-legged eye-candy on the TARDIS. On the other hand, he was really trying to not spend so much time fantasizing about the Doctor as it would become awkward when the Time Lord inevitably flipped gender again, let alone in all of the inevitable situations where he and the Doctor wound up in very close quarters during their adventures.

Naturally, he decided to ask Amy for help. “You should go for it!” Amy urged. 

Rory supposed he shouldn't have expected any other sort of advice. He raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Not just because you feel guilty about sleeping with him back when he was a him?”

“Only a little,” she admitted. “But I certainly wouldn't think less of you either way.”

“Thanks.” He ran his fingers through his hair and leaned against the wall. 

“What are you two talking about?” the Doctor asked, appearing suddenly.

“Nothing,” Rory said hastily over Amy's pointed looks. Thankfully, she didn't press the issue.

***

The next day the Doctor landed them just outside a fancy hotel and asked if the honeymoon suite was available. “Ah, yes, are the three of you together, then?” the receptionist asked. 

“No--”

She turned to the Doctor and Rory. “The two of you, then?”

“We're not--”

The receptionist looked at Amy and the Doctor. “My apologies: the two of you?”

Amy gritted her teeth and held in the urge to strangle the young woman as the Doctor explained that, even though that she was in the middle, and despite whatever the psychic paper was saying, Amy and Rory were, in fact, the couple, and that she would need other lodging. 

Regardless of the fact that the Doctor had booked herself a room, she came up to unwind with the Ponds after the day's excitement: a foiled assassination attempt. “I am going for a swim,” Amy announced, grabbing her suit. “And maybe a go in the sauna. Anyone care to join me?”

“I'm actually famished,” Rory said, picking up the menu. “I was just about to order room service...” he trailed off when he realized he didn't recognize anything.

“I'll pick some things out for you,” the Doctor assured him. “I keep forgetting that a pair of trunks won't do, anyway.”

“See you two in an hour or so, then.” Amy gave them a mischievous wink and left.

True to her word, the Doctor scanned the menu and put in an order, and fifteen minutes later there were small, boneless fish, deep-fried whole in spicy batter (though Rory found that the fuchsia cheese cut the heat nicely), and tangy crackers with a fruity spread, and sausage with a salty gravy, and a bowl of yellow berries that tasted a bit like the bastard child of a grapefruit and a cinnamon stick. “Thank you,” Rory said, when they had finished.

“Pish, this was nothing.”

“More just for the chance to soak in the simple pleasure of trying new foods in a hotel room.” He slouched against the Doctor on the sofa. “It doesn't always have to be spectacular.”

“You're welcome.” Their hands brushed together. Rory forced himself to remain calm. Just two friends hanging out...wasn't it?

“Are we having a date?” Rory asked.

“Rory, I...”

“How much has Amy told you?” The Doctor didn't say anything. “A lot, then. Planned this?”

“Not specifically.” The Doctor was starting to get nervous. “I'm more of the make the plan up as I go sort. Now, my seventh body, he was a planner! Why, one time—” Rory silenced her with a kiss.

“Figure you ought to have a taste of your own medicine, Doctor,” Rory said, blushing, and the Doctor pulled him in for another kiss.

***

“Should I wear a condom?” Rory fumbled with his shirt as the Doctor crashed to the ground trying to wriggle out of her tights. 

“Only if it makes you feel better.” Rory stepped out of his jeans as he walked over to his luggage.

“Think I've got one in here somewhere... Are we going to be...you know...able to interact?” he asked as he fished out a pair of condoms from the back of his suitcase. 

“I don't know; are we?” The Doctor was sprawled on the bed, naked. “Why don't you do a closer examination?”

He turned and his jaw dropped. “You're stunning,” he tells her, and means it. He tosses one condom onto the nightstand and shucks off his shirt. “Which is good, because your sexy-talk, like the sonic, is a bit rubbish and has no effect on wood.”

“Rory Williams! Do I endlessly make fun of your equipment?”

“Nope.” He ripped open the other condom and rolled it on. “And you damn well better not.” 

“Mm, as long as you're gentle,” she said as he planted kisses down her arms. “This is my first time. In this regeneration. While in the form of a woman. With a male. Human.” The 'n' trails off liquidly as Rory nestled between the Doctor's legs. “Mm, Rassilon, Rory, no wonder you and Amy spend so much time in the bunk-beds,” she moaned as one bony hand pets the nape of his neck. 

Rory blushed; it is one thing to hear praise from Amy, and another to hear it from the Doctor. Not that he expects Amy would lie, or even sugar-coat things—not at all. It's just that her experiences are necessarily limited in scope. “Thanks,” he said, and moved up to pinch one sensitive nipple and kiss the Doctor. Well, hopefully I won't regret this too dramatically in two months when the Doctor finally figures this chaos field thing out, he mused as he plunged into the Doctor. “You feel incredible,” he managed. Definitely keeping this one out of the regrets pile, he decided. She was tight and hot and wet, and she moaned delightfully as he thrust into her. He was starting to see what Amy saw in those gangly elbows and that floppy hair.

“Oh, Rory, fuck, please,” the Doctor babbled, and Rory eagerly moved to satisfy her. Made a nice change from the usual state of affairs, where the Doctor would explain some cosmic phenomenon with some dreadful metaphor and Rory was left rolling his eyes. Good old-fashioned boy-on-top, girl-on-bottom sex? Rory reckoned he could handle that one. Yep, he thought, grunting as he came. Got that sorted. “Rory,” the Doctor panted, “I don't tell you how brilliant you are often enough.” Rory blushed.

***

Amy came back twenty minutes later, still wearing her suit. “Thought I'd shower up here,” she said. “Didn't think you'd mind,” she went on, popping one breast free from the sharp green one-piece. “You two have fun?” she asked, stepping out of the suit altogether.

“Scads,” the Doctor said. “She's gorgeous,” she whispered to Rory. “I don't think I noticed at first—was a bit distracted by the whole...ahem...process.”

Rory mulled this over as he leaned back and wrapped an arm around the Doctor's shoulders. “I'll have a threesome with you and the Doctor when she changes back if you have one with us now,” he called.

Amy perked up from turning on the tap. “I'll certainly think about it,” she said, and closed the door. The Doctor simply beamed at him, and Rory kissed her on the cheek.

“You know, Rory,” she whispered. “There's a chance—a slight chance—that if I can isolate the correct frequency, I could replicate the effect.”

Rory traced a finger along the Doctor's cheekbone. Tooling through space with his wife, their time-traveling daughter/best friend/in-law, an alien who changed genders at will, and his/her sentient spaceship? Sounded about right. “I think I'd like that,” he whispered in reply, and kissed her.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm deliberately leaving this open-ended as to whether this turns into a stable threesome or not. I don't know that I want to say that it would magically work, but if I were going to write more, it probably would at least be a Doctor-centric V.


End file.
